Prudence was flattered by Mr Morgan's attentions and grateful for his consideration. She did not love him. She had a very clear idea what type of man could inspire love in her. It was an entirely different type from Mr Morgan. But marriage with Mr Morgan opened a way of escape from uncongenial surroundings. If she missed this opening it was very possible that an opportunity might not occur again. She made up her mind, as Steele had known she would do, to seize it when the moment offered. She made one final attempt, however, to gain news of Steele. One day when she was alone with Mr Morgan she summoned all her courage and inquired after Steele. Mr Morgan showed surprise at her question, and paused a moment for reflection before he was able clearly to recall the facts about the man to whom she referred. It seemed to be a matter of astonishment to him that she should be acquainted with Steele. Steele had left Morgan Bros, a year ago, he told her. He had gone abroad, to Africa, he believed. He revealed an uncertainty as to his movements and a lack of interest in them which exasperated Prudence. "So many young men emigrate to the Colonies nowadays," he said. "New countries attract them. They don't settle down in England." "There are better openings in new countries, I suppose," she said in a dispirited voice, which she strove to render indifferent. "A man with enterprise ought to get ahead in the Colonies." "A man with enterprise possibly might get ahead," Mr Morgan allowed; "a man with capital assuredly would." "Don't brains reckon as capital in new countries?" she asked. "Brains are an asset in every country," he answered; "but credit at one's bank is the surest passport to success anywhere. So far as I remember, Steele was unfortunate. He did not leave us under any cloud; but there was a default in his department, and he had to make good. I imagine he emigrated with only the necessary means for landing." "Oh!" said Prudence, and regarded Mr Morgan, who was reputed to be a millionaire, with a diminution of respect. He could better have afforded to lose the money. To have allowed a man who, while responsible, was not culpable in the matter of the deficit to make good was ungenerous. "I wish you had not told me that." He looked astonished. "You could have borne the loss," she said. "Business cannot be run on quixotic lines," he answered. "Besides, every man of honour accepts his responsibilities."